Dawn's Darkness
by Slyden-Marcus
Summary: Knights of the Old Republic. KOTOR. A year after the Star Forge's destruction, a new age of prosperity arrives for the Republic. In the shadows, however, a new darkness lingers and its origins are unknown.
1. Prelude

Author does not own rights to characters or world portrayed - Those belong to George Lucas, Bioware, etc. No profit is being made from this work.  
  
THE AUTHOR IS A FIRST TIME POSTER TO A PUBLIC FORUM - OR ANY FORUM FOR THAT MATTER - AND IF SO KIND, PLEASE POST REVIEWS.  
  
Prelude  
  
Dawn's breath played lazily across the Korriban landscape. Shadow and darkness were dissolved, replaced with pastel oranges, purples, and crimsons that weaved ever further across the brightening sky.  
Night's predators fled for safe shelter, reluctant to emerge until darkness seeped over the planet once more. They had done what was needed to survive here. They had emerged at the onset of shadow and set out to hunt their slumbering prey.  
The light offered open visibility to those who dared travel it, lending false security to their senses. Danger and Threat went unseen. Truth and Justice, blinded by their own light, fulfilled their duties, allowing life to resume a kind of normalcy before the creatures of light returned to their dwellings under the pretense of rest.  
Light held the naïve, the narrow sighted, the unseeing, the victims of their own beliefs.  
Darkness birthed shadows that held the strong, the brave, the advantageous, and the survivors. 


	2. Chapter One

Author does not own rights to characters or world portrayed - Those belong to George Lucas, Bioware, etc. No profit is being made from this work.  
  
THE AUTHOR IS A FIRST TIME POSTER TO A PUBLIC FORUM - OR ANY FORUM FOR THAT MATTER - AND IF SO KIND, PLEASE POST REVIEWS.  
  
Chapter 1  
  
'Never pick your fights. Let the fights pick you.' That was something they had forgotten, Alexandre Kodiak thought as he stood atop a mountain overlooking the valley and cliff face that held the entrance and training grounds of Korriban's Sith Academy. What he saw below sickened him to his core.  
Hopeful inductees stood by the main entrance, their naïveté a leading contributor to the torture currently raping their bodies. The chasteners, Sith Apprentices or full-fledged Dark Jedi, came and went as they pleased, taunting them with the one thing they wanted most - acceptance to the dark order.  
So much blind, hopeful ambition was squandered there on the field before the massive stone doors of the academy. Each stood there ready to prove their worth, following any advice or order given them. Many would die there, having starved or suffered far more torture than their minds could take. Not a single one of these hopefuls would ever make it into the academy.  
The true key lay deep within one's self, a part of you that you would normally never know was there unless someone pointed it out to you. That key was sensitivity to a force that defied scientific or religious explanation. A force that seemingly chose its representatives at random and then sometimes allowed them to live out their entire lives in complete ignorance of it.  
Cross the paths of a Jedi while still young and that order may recruit you, effectively changing your life forever. Fail to cross the path of the Jedi and there was always the Sith.  
Very rarely do the Sith prefer young apprentices. Instead, they prefer you at the peak of your young adult life. To them, a person who has gone without many things and known desire, lust, love, hate, fear, ambition, and strength is a prime candidate. These emotions can be used. They can be focused and forced upon anyone who would dare stand in their way.  
While those before the gate met half of the requirements, they failed in force sensitivity - the most crucial of all aspects to becoming a Sith Apprentice.  
Their own ignorance would be their death. 


	3. Chapter One and a half

Author does not own rights to characters or world portrayed - Those belong to George Lucas, Bioware, etc. No profit is being made from this work.  
  
THE AUTHOR IS A FIRST TIME POSTER TO A PUBLIC FORUM - OR ANY FORUM FOR THAT MATTER - AND IF SO KIND, PLEASE POST REVIEWS.  
  
Chapter 1.5  
  
Alexandre had waited patiently for hours atop his overlook, having several times required to hunker himself against the ground for fear a roving Sith patrol would find him. He did not need that - and neither did they.  
It was now noon and the training grounds inside the compound would be sweltering with heat. Exhaustion would be sapping the strength from whoever had trained in the morning. Those still fresh and strong would be commencing lunch and the instructors and senior dark Jedi would go about their instructor and senior dark Jedi obligations. Whatever those were.  
It was time. He stood up slowly, his legs and back screaming in silent protest, their joints and muscles having hours before effectively locked themselves into the kneeling position. Sweat that was once beaded against the tiny hairs of his back now caused an uncomfortable cling to his dusky gray robes. At the back of his trouser knee perspiration and pressure had creased the material severely, while the natural salts in his body had acted as a starch to stiffen the fabric.  
With a very slow, focused inhale, Alexandre reached into the folds of his robes to remove what would otherwise have looked like a metal tube.  
As he set off towards the entrance to the Academy, Alexandre realized that the next few moments would indeed be very uncomfortable. 


	4. Chapter Two

Chapter Two  
  
Crisp autumn breezes ruffled through the thin blades of murmount grasses at the edge of the Jedi Compound on Dantooine, the sound like that of crashing water as separate tufts within the fields bowed down with each firm gust applied. The late evening sunset was only an hour away and already the chirrups of Night Singers were echoing through the shallow valley. Soon it would be dark and the stars above would shine brightly.  
  
Almost a year ago, the dark Sith Lord Malak wiped out the small contingent of Jedi Masters, Knights, and Padawans stationed on this planet in his attempt to seize the Galaxy from the Republic's hands. However, only a fraction of the planet had actually been assaulted. The remainder had been largely unpopulated and left relatively untouched by the Sith battle fleets.  
  
When Darth Malak was defeated at the hands of Jedi Master Alexandre Kodiak and Jedi Knight Bastila Shan, the decision was made to construct another forward outpost on Dantooine.  
  
Tactically, Dantooine was a premier crossroads for several major systems that were thought of to have prospering worlds with the ability to affect Republic legislature. It would not do to have a world or worlds go to war over something the Jedi could easily mediate.  
  
Symbolically, the Jedi would not back down as defenders of the Republic. They would rebuild. They would re-grow. They would prosper. They demonstrated by their very existence on Dantooine that the horrors of yesterday were not to be forgotten. Instead, they were to be testament to the cruelty given out by the children of the dark and that the children of the light would never cower, never surrender.  
  
A glass valley, mirroring the sky above, pock-marked by rubble and dirt, was but the only vestige left of the old Jedi outpost. Still, a recent string of pilgrimages by Jedi wishing to pay respects were beginning to become popular as the one-year anniversary approached.  
  
One such group, like so many others, was likewise setting out to pay their own respects to their fallen tutors and comrades. The only thing that set them aside from their fellows was the simple fact that they were the reason that the glass fields, valleys, and mountains even existed.  
  
They had brought Malak's wrath upon Dantooine. They had brought pain to the innocent. They had done it all in the name of defense and it was a burden that each lived with on a daily basis.  
  
"Master Kodiak." A slender female Jedi called out, her near-raven hair snaking lazily over her accentuated Anglo features. About her slender form were the loosely fitting garments common in Jedi garb. Beneath the robes, when the wind fluttered, one could catch sight of a black neotex bodysuit that was becoming the rage with younger Jedi, giving hints to a firm, toned, and shapely figure beneath.  
  
"Bastila Shan." Alexandre Kodiak called out across the field, his lips resisting the urge to grin at the sight of seeing the woman.  
  
'Remember. A Jedi knows not hate, fear, or love.' This was a reminder every time he saw Jedi Knight Shan, but the lesson never seemed to have truly set within his mind. Questions arose frequently as to why he could not ask her to be his. Wasn't it he who saved her from Malak's clutches? Wasn't it he who sacrificed mission and life to reunite her with her mother? And wasn't it he who made the choice, the choice that he still regretted?  
  
She was all that reminded him of that horrible day. If he had just chosen a different path, he could be with her now, he was sure of it. Instead, his work carried him away from her instead of nearer while her mindset returned to that of a true Jedi. It seemed, at least to Jedi Master Kodiak, that his appeal to Bastila was nearing an end.  
  
Alexandre neared the woman and the group standing around her. His eyes confirmed what his mind had already deduced. Knight-Errant Canderous Ordo, Commodore Carth Onasi of the Republic Sixth Fleet, and Jedi Knight Jolee Bindu had assembled to await transport for this most solemn of occasions.  
  
"Revan, it has been awhile, hasn't it?" Canderous greeted Alexandre with a mild flick-salute. No matter how many times he was corrected, the Mandalorian refused to call him by any other name than that given to him at birth.  
  
"Canderous." Alexandre greeted, bowing at the waist briefly. "Indeed, it has been. I hope the Republic has not one of your stature and capabilities pushing pencils all day, have they?"  
  
"I see more trees on my desk than I do in the forests anymore. It appears I was right. There truly seems to be not a place in the galaxy for warriors such as you and myself."  
  
The message conveyed self-pity but the tone was full of an underlying sadistic humor.  
  
"Indeed." Alexandre said, eyes wafting towards Carth. "Commodore. Moving through the ranks of the Navy, I see." He reached his hand to the man. "Congratulations are in order, I assume."  
  
Carth Onasi, golden child of more wars than either Alexandre or Bastila could remember, was a firmly built man a full three inches taller than Alexandre himself. His blue and red Navy dress uniform was adorned with ribbons and medals of all types on both breasts of his jacket though he wore them with less pride and more burden than most of his contemporaries.  
  
He cared more for the losses than the gain in almost all of his conflicts. At times he was the conscious you needed. At other times, he was the little voice in your head that needed to be silenced in order to remain sane.  
  
"Thank you, Master Kodiak." Carth smiled, a slight flush rising to his cheeks. Very seldom did he receive heralds from men he admired and trusted. Alexandre was but a few with the honor.  
  
The group spoke for some time while waiting for their transport craft to arrive. Their conversation mostly lingering on personal life issues and anecdotes received throughout the past year or so since many saw each other last.  
  
When the craft finally arrived half an hour later, all filed inside and journey to the memorial began.  
  
"Explain to me again, Master Kodiak. Why did you beg the council to keep the Sith Academy intact after the Star Forge was destroyed?" Bastila asked this, looking up into his face as he thoughtfully gazed out onto the horizon.  
  
The trip to the memorial was direct and without incident. The walk to the actual stone memorial where the old Council chambers once stood was one of silent reflection and remembrance.  
  
All five were now staring out over the expanse of the glazed earth lying at their feet and beyond over the horizon. When Bastila spoke, it was the first time since arriving that anyone had opened their mouths.  
  
"I feel the Sith will yet play a part in the life of the Republic. To leave them is a wise course of action. To eradicate them, destroy them, to kill them all - this would surely devour our souls by the very force we are trying to fight. To leave them." He nodded his head several times as if checking with his own mental advisor. ".would be to bring balance to the Force."  
  
Bastila seemed to have been readying a rebuttal for the type of logic Alexandre presented her. She could not, however, find one.  
  
'Who else would better know the Sith than an ex-Sith himself? There are things at work here that I know nothing about and wish to know nothing about. I trust him.' She thought, blue eyes floating over Kodiak's face like two icebergs breaking free from Hoth's icepacks.  
  
It was several more minutes in silence before Carth was the first to move or speak again. The corners of his eyes were slightly damp and his cheeks a little reddened. He was leaving, sighting business and responsibilities he needed to tend to. Bastila was right behind him, essentially asking for a ride back to the enclave where she would see to some additional duties before likewise returning to her station.  
  
Alexandre nodded briefly to the departing female Jedi, his eyes closing as if to inhale her passing as silently as possible.  
  
Canderous did not so much as dismiss himself as to just turn and walk away. As one of very few non-force adepts in the Jedi Order, Canderous enjoyed many more liberties and oddities than was normally allowed. One such was political savvy or lack thereof. It made Alexandre smile.  
  
Several minutes were spent in silent reverie, Alexandre with his eyes closed, head bowed. It seemed like the world of Dantooine was just now beginning to resettle its spirit, growing accustomed to the vicious scar inflicted upon it. All was calm. All was serene.  
  
"I know what you're doing." It was Jolee Bindu's voice that shattered any sense of calming effect the quiet world had had on Alexandre. He had almost forgotten about the ancient Jedi, he had not said a word all day. But his sudden emergence from the shadows of background flowery within the group caused a very faint tinge of annoyance to wash through Alexandre's body.  
  
"Hrm?" He responded.  
  
"I know what you're doing." Jolee repeated again, voice deepening. "No one else sees it, but I do. I won't let it happen."  
  
"Jedi Bindu." Alexandre said slowly, eyes turning towards the dark skinned man. "I haven't a clue what you are referring to. Whatever grievance you have with my business and myself you are more than welcome to bring to the Council's attention. They will deal with it fairly. Seclusion, however, is not an option."  
  
There was an uncomfortable pause between the two men.  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
"I know why you were there."  
  
With that one statement, the color drained from Jedi Knight Jolee Bindu's face. 


	5. Chapter Three

Chapter Three  
  
"I saw something tonight."  
  
"Where?"  
  
"In my dreams. The connection is still there. I thought it had gone."  
  
"Another vision? Of the past or present?"  
  
"Past. Some present. Hold on. Our connection is fading. There."  
  
"What was your vision about?"  
  
"I.. I'm not sure. Something dark is on the horizon, something sinister. He was there, as always, but not the same. He and his apprentice Jandu were both there. I noticed a fault in their appearance, like the very fabric of reality was bent around them. Like . Like the force was bending to accept them both, or. I don't . I don't know."  
  
"Are you sure it just wasn't a dream, Bastila?"  
  
"I don't. I don't know. He was talking but not with his voice. Instead, he spoke like Malak in that same contemptible tone and serrated edge. The hatred, the unbound disgust."  
  
"Bastila."  
  
"I know. I know. That's not the man I know. Even as Revan he was tame, cruel but tame. He had control of himself, of his people. But this, this was unbridled fury in it's purist form."  
  
"You know like I do that he has done not a single thing to any of us. He has always been there with us, for us. Even when Mission and Zalbaar turned against us, he was there to offer her harbor and safety, to bring her back to the light. Bastila, any man who would do that wouldn't be what you saw in your dream tonight."  
  
"I know. And." There was a nervous chuckle. ".He even spoke of Jolee to Jandu. Jolee is like a mentor to him, I think, even if he himself won't admit it. He's no threat to anyone and even when the council tried to demote Jolee to Padawan so he could relearn the Jedi way, he was there to stop it."  
  
"You just had a bad dream, Bastila. That's all." "I hope so."  
  
"It was."  
  
"I. I know."  
  
"Bastila." Another nervous chuckle, this time a man's voice, crept across the vast reaches of space. ".You probably just got flustered from seeing him last week."  
  
"What?"  
  
"You know what I'm saying."  
  
".I am a Jedi."  
  
"I know."  
  
"Carth? I have to go. Thank you for talking and still being awake."  
  
"You're welcome, Bastila. Be safe and watch yourself."  
  
"May the Force be with you, Carth Onasi."  
  
Canderous Ordo sat alone in his stateroom aboard the Jedi flagship Shining Wisdom, his face clouded in thought. He had just returned to his room from meeting with R'tork Monmo, a Twi'lek Jedi who was formally in charge of all political matters that the Shining Wisdom could potentially find herself involved with.  
  
Naturally, the meeting's rather dry content was more than enough fuel to foster the fires of his current reverie.  
  
Canderous was a Knight-Errant of the Jedi Order, former commando of the Mandalorian Legions, Star of the Republic medal recipient, and according to last years 'Who's Hot?' issue of Fango's Monthly Datmag, the fifty-first sexiest being in the Republic. Which really wasn't all that bad, he thought, considering the fact that there were several thousand or so contestants worthy of mention.  
  
The only thing that still bothered him was that Commodore Carth Onasi had beaten him out by three votes to earn the forty-ninth slot. It always seemed the man was a step ahead in some areas of life, most of which Canderous secretly envied.  
  
For instance, Carth was still a warrior. He spent more time at the helm of his flagship than any Admiral Canderous had ever heard of.  
  
A large misconception by the naïve would lead many to believe that with the most obvious threats gone, the Republic's armed forces were at a loss for mission. Contrary to belief, Canderous thought, any Empi. - Republic, always has their dissidents. Outside forces vied for control of the Outer Rim, that area just beyond the fingertips of Republic recognized space.  
  
It was in this outlaw section of space that the Republic fleets patrolled, making their presence known as if to announce by their very existence that any hostilities, illegal actions, or plotting were not going to be tolerated and the Republic stood ready to react at a moment's notice. Of course, in a time of real conflict, forces were allocated elsewhere and the Outer Rim was almost certainly deserted, leaving it's citizenry at the whim of whatever would-be dictator decided to make a grab for power.  
  
It was now time for the Republic to clean up their mess in that area. So, with quiet envy, Canderous knew that Carth would see many more battles to come.  
  
Carth also appeared happy. Happy with the direction his life and career were taking him. He seemed content with his personal relationships or lack thereof. Carth was not a logic gate, to be toggled to the 'happy' mode only when a certain stimulus was applied.  
  
No. Carth was not Canderous and Canderous hated . disliked him greatly for it.  
  
With a sigh of resignation, he sat back in his chair and idly thumbed his message recorder. There were two waiting for him.  
  
One message was from a Hutt attaché Canderous had met briefly at a luncheon on Coruscant. Evidently the man wished to discuss the R-823CE asteroid cluster and the profit it could bring to both the Republic and the Hutt syndicate he worked for.  
  
Bleep. Deleted.  
  
The next message took a moment to recognize but when the callback address was confirmed, Canderous' eyes narrowed. Bastila Shan. The poster child for spoiled Jedi galaxy-wide had left him a message. Something about a dream she just woke up from and that she needed to talk to him. The message went on and when it was obvious Canderous had not been at the receiver at the time, she said she would call Carth and seek his aid.  
  
There it was. Carth. Carth-Carth-Carth-Carth.  
  
Even while he frowned on Bastila in mere principle, Canderous admitted to himself that the attractive young woman did have merit. She was capable of combat and she knew space tactics. That alone warranted his attention to her problems out of mere professional respect. He owed her that much.  
  
Bloop. Message saved.  
  
His messages done, Canderous turned towards his inbox where datchips and pads awaited his approval, rejection, or review.  
  
The first one from the top of the stack was titled: Proposition Dawn.  
  
Turning the chip over and over in his hands, inspecting it, Canderous' lips began to curve upwards.  
  
Now this, he thought, now this would make him a very happy man indeed.  
  
That same evening darkness crept over Dantooine too, like some sort of uncontrollable ink stain, it seeped into every nook and cranny imaginable until all were covered in it.  
  
The planet was sleeping, it's small population of farmers, settlers, nature enthusiasts, and Jedi were for the most part asleep.  
  
A figure, alone in it's room, turned and rolled over restlessly. It glowed within the moonlight; thick sweat sheen producing an aura of fledgling light that almost made it appear holy. Muscles writhed, scars twisted and churned, and small sounds were elicited from the back of its throat.  
  
In an instant the figure bolted upright, it's breathing intense and labored, fists clenched. It took several seconds before emotions were controlled, quelled, and placed back under their restraints.  
  
Thought began to form.  
  
Jedi Master Alexandre Kodiak's eyes narrowed sharply. 


End file.
